The Plebeians and The Patricians
by AlongTheBinding
Summary: After the deaths of Bob Sheldon, Johnny Cade, and Dallas Winston the high school starts a summer program in hopes of curbing the gang violence in Tulsa. Not only will Greaser and Soc alike be forced to remain on school grounds at all times, but the roles are somewhat reversed. Greasers are now Patricians and Socs are now Plebeians.
1. The Program

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

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None of them could believe they were there. It was summer, for crying out loud! None of them had any desire to be sitting in the high school gymnasium on uncomfortable fold out chairs, sweating swimming pools. None of them wanted to be there when school was in session! But that was beside the point. This, they all agreed, was a damn waste of time. And the heat made it worse.

Darry leaned back in his chair, arms folded with a scowl. They had to be kidding! He couldn't afford to take this time off to be some goddamn guinea pig in their little social experiment! And if it wasn't for their damn social worker making it a requirement that they attend, he could be pulling extra shifts to ensure that there was some food on their table as well as a roof over their heads. Speaking of which, he had countless bills to pay, he needed to go shopping… If they made him take off work to be sitting there they could've at least let him attend to more pressing matters, such as electricity being turned off for falling behind again, the lack of hot water, and other then the water in the faucet his brothers had nothing to eat or drink in the house.

Sodapop was not thrilled either. He quit school! He hated school! He never wanted to find himself back in here! He needed to be working, too. Though Darry would never admit it, Soda knew they were struggling. They were always struggling, but summer was particularly bad. Besides, all the time wasted sitting in the damn hot gym was a wasted paycheck and wasted fun! He couldn't sit still, anyway, but this was just torture! He'd rather be flirting with girls and working on cars and hunting actions with his friends.

Ponyboy thought it wasn't fair! All year he was forced to attend the world of academics! Those two months of freedom were his, not to be wasted back in school! He could've been catching a movie or reading or drawing, or hanging out at the DX with Soda and the gang. But no! No, he had to find himself stuck in the damn high school, wasting daylight! And what was worse was across the aisle from him and his gang was no other then a group of Socs. They were already glaring at him, making gestures warning him of his impending doom at their hands. Wasn't it bad enough they forced him to have to deal with them on a daily basis nine months out of the year? At least at home he didn't have to walk down the hall with them or sit with them in class and be a target to their endless harassment. Sure, the streets aren't exactly safe and of course, there was always the fear of being jumped, but in school, he was stuck! At least his brothers were there. Though, that wasn't necessarily a good thing. Them not working meant less money. He pleaded with Darry to let him get a job and help out, but there weren't many people eager to hire a fourteen year old and Darry flat out refused. He planned on being out of the house for the most part, to save on food and stuff. He thought it could help make him less of a burden on his brothers. At least being in the gym would help with that.

Steve couldn't believe Darry made him and Two-bit join, too. Why'd they have to go? It wasn't like it was their damn social worker requiring them to go! Darry's reasoning was if he and his brothers had to go, they did, too. And let's face it, you just don't argue with Darry.

So there they were, sitting in the stinking hot gymnasium. Two-bit asleep, with his feet resting on the chair in front of him, Ponyboy off in his head again, Darry contemplating how to divide his pay check between the countless bills and food, and Soda poking Steve out of boredom. What a _wonderful_ way to spend their summer!

Finally, one of the many high school teachers and other adults, who were standing along the walls, stepped up to the podium, clearing her throat and tapping on the microphone. The echo received her a snort from a still asleep Two-bit. "It appears we're all here. Good, good." She scanned the bored faces of her audience. "Now, some of us are here as an alternative to summer school. Some of us are here as an alternative to jail. And some of us are here merely upon volunteering. Whatever the how, let's get to the why." She cleared her throat again to get everyone's attentions. Heads that were staring out the window or at the clock, turned quickly to face her again. Two-bit snorted, muttering something in his sleep. "This past year three young men lost their lives. The violence in the streets of Tulsa has gone up! To remedy the situation, to curb the violence, to ensure no one else will lose their life to this growing epidemic, the police force, Social Services and the high school have joined together to create this summer program!" Again, her audience had that unresponsive, zombified look.

"Does anybody here know about the plebeians and the patricians?" She thought some participation would keep her audience awake.

All the Greasers turned to look at Ponyboy, who colored lightly and tried sinking further in his seat. Chances were Ponyboy with how much he read and his good grades knew. The teacher followed their eyes to Ponyboy and grinned. "Ah, Ponyboy Curtis. If you would be so kind, please inform your peers about the Plebeians and the Patricians."

Though it sounded like a request, he knew from experience it was anything but. Reluctantly, he rose to his feet, his ears burning red. "The pleb…"

"Speak up so that everyone may hear you." She instructed.

Grimacing, he complied. "The plebeians and the patricians were two different classes in ancient Rome. The patricians were the ruling class, the rich guys. The plebeians were lower class." He sat back down, hating to be the center of attention.

"In this summer program, we are going to take on the roles of the plebeians and the patricians." She held her hand out to the left side of the room where all the greasers were sitting. "Patricians." Then, she held out her hand to the right side where all the Socs were sitting. "Plebeians."

"Wait." Soda spoke up. "You saying we're switching roles?"

The woman nodded. "In a sense. We hope that the reversal of roles will allow some insight and personal growth that will ultimately lead to less violence in the streets and in the halls of our school."

"Screw that!" Steve jumped up with a huge grin. "We're the ruling class! Suck that, Plebeians!" The Socs, however, tensed and stiffened, shouting many protests.

Again, she cleared her throat, trying to regain their attention. She wasn't sure what was better the zombified look or the new excitement. "We do, however, have a few rules. You must stay on school grounds the whole time. Drinking, drugs, any type of weapon will all not be permitted. You are in a school building and the rules of school still apply. If found breaking these rules, you will face the consequences and trust me, you do not want to face the consequences." Everyone was still consumed with the idea of this program. "The rest of the rules will be made up by the Patricians. If a Patricians is found breaking any rule, whether it be one they made up or one of the school rules, you will be demoted in status to Plebeian. A couple rules to get you started Patricians. Plebeians will be sleeping out in the football field. And there can be no relationships of any kind between the two classes."

"What?" "You've got to be kidding me?" "Where are they sleeping?" Questions fired from the Socs. No one seemed to mind the rule about no relationships. That was sort of an unspoken rule already. But it was at that moment that Cherry Valance caught Ponyboy's eye.

The teacher shrugged. "Anywhere they want as long as they remain on school grounds. Before, you head off to get settled, one more thing. For all of you who have been fretting over calling out of work to participate, we are working alongside many local businesses. We have contacted your bosses and this will be considered a paid vacation. So relax, have fun, and most importantly learn. You are dismissed." Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad after all.


	2. Not Walls

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders.**

**AN: I really do apologize for the long time it took to update. I owe you guys like a hundred updates. Also, never fear that I will abandon a story. I do not believe in doing that. It might take me a little longer to update some more than others, but I swear I will not abandon them! I thank you for the reviews, favorites, follows, views, and your patience. Now, before continuing, let me say this. When someone has gone without hot water for some time, even in the heat of summer, one will jump at the chance to have it, again. I hope you all have never and will never have to experience that! Also, I've never written Tim Shepard before. I apologize if he's at all out of character.**

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"Woohoo!" Soda did a back flip and started walking on his hands. "Partitions rule!"

"Patricians, little buddy. We ain't walls." Darry scanned the hall, looking for a room to settle down in. He was feeling a bit more relaxed now that he knew they were getting paid. It would be nice to not have to get up early, worry about cooking or cleaning, and an added bonus was this was a paid vacation. "Where should we set up camp?"

Ponyboy was already heading toward a specific door.

"Where ya headed?" Soda asked, picking himself up.

"Probably to the library." Steve snickered. Ponyboy shot him a look. "Figures. It's summer, we're camping out in the high school, and the kid chooses the library to sleep in!"

Darry shrugged. "Sounds good to me. Let's go."

"Naw, Darry! Come on!" Steve protested. "I ain't sleeping in no lousy library!"

"What's a matter Steve?" Soda asked, grinning from ear to ear. "Afraid you might get smart?"

Steve pounced on him, knocking him into the library's doors and they rolled around fighting between the different aisles of book.

Two-bit eyed the library cautiously. "I dunno, Darry. The place will probably catch into flames the moment I step in."

Darry clapped his shoulder and pushed him over the threshold. "Come on. It won't kill you!"

Falling to the ground, Two-bit hissed, crossing his forefingers to ward off imaginary demons. "It burns! It burns!"

Rolling his eyes, Darry stepped over him to put his stuff down. Ponyboy already had his nose in a book. Soda popped up from his roughhousing with Steve and declared they should make a fort, grabbing the sleeping bag from Darry's hand. And of course Steve and Two-bit lent a hand. Soda managed to draw Ponyboy out of his book to help, as well. "It'll be the biggest, bestest..."

"Bestest ain't a word," Darry told him, trying to hide his chuckles. This brought back many memories. He shook his head at their childishness. But before long, he found himself participating. After all, he was a roofer and, according to the gang, was always the best at making the forts in the past. They took a step back to admire their work. It was a magnificent tent of blankets and sleeping bags. Soda deemed it a palace.

A throat cleared and they turned around to find none other than Tim Shepard with an amused look on his face. Pony and Darry's ears colored slightly in embarrassment, but Soda and Two-bit beamed in pride and Steve tried to act indifferent.

There's nothing more wrong than seeing Tim Shepard in a library, or within five feet of books in general. "I stand corrected." Two-bit muttered under his breath, so only the gang could hear. "I'm surprised the library didn't catch into flames the moment _he _stepped in."

The five of them stared at him. "What fucking square chooses a goddamn library to bunk in?" Ponyboy reddened even more, praying everyone kept their mouths shut.

Darry folded his arms. "Is there a reason you're here, Shepard?"

He lit up a cancer-stick, eyes drifting from the fort to Darry with a smirk. "Get on with it, Curtis." They cocked their eyebrows, and, rolling his eyes, he clarified. "The laws."

"What about the others?" Ponyboy asked.

Tim blew smoke in his face. "They answer to me." Ponyboy, Soda, Steve, and Two-bit all looked toward Darry. "Well, Curtis?" He flicked his ashes at them. "I ain't got all day."

Locking eyes with the hood, Darry nodded. "What's first?"

Ponyboy was tossed a pen and paper and told to write down what they came up with. And thus began a massive debate over the rules. In little to no time, everyone was incoherently shouting over each other. Giving up actually dictating, he wrote four words and slammed the paper down between all of them. The arguing and rough housing ceased and they all peered down at it. "Patrician's word is law." Darry read out loud. Everyone exchanged devious smirks.

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Darry woke up with a stretch, unaccustomed to sleeping in late. His body worked on a schedule, making any attempt to sleep later impossible. Crawling out of Soda's master fort, the clock caught his eye. Despite it reading half past six, an hour more sleep than usual, he marveled at the quality of sleep. He hadn't slept that well in a long time. Grabbing his towel and a change of clothes, he headed to the locker rooms for a shower.

A little while later lines formed outside the locker room. A plebeian opened the door, only for it to slam shut just as fast. Tim Shepard leaned against it and drawled, "Patricians shower first." Followed by the gang and his company, he slammed the door in the plebeian's face.

Upon entering, Two-bit made some joke about what Darry could be doing to cause the windows and mirrors to fog like that and the length of Darry's shower. Unfortunately, Darry who was just getting out of the shower, overheard and thwacked him in the back of the head.

Once all were showered and dressed, they headed out to be greeted by the very disgruntled plebeians. There was no hot water left. Seeing Paul in the group gave Darry a feeling of righteousness, some type of justice. The patricians walked past with satisfied smirks, but as Ponyboy spotted Randy, he started to feel a bit guilty. There would've been plenty of hot water for all of them if they didn't hog it. And Ponyboy knew all too well what it was like to only have cold water.

He hung back a moment, surprised to even see him. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Randy shrugged. "Old man made me come. Punishment for my role in it all." Ponyboy nodded in understanding, surveying the plebeians. Randy finally looked over to Pony. "This whole thing is crap, you know? After summer, everything goes back. You go back to being a greaser and we all go back to being socs. And this will only make things worse. It will only pit us against each other more. Anyway," he went back to staring at nothing in particular ahead of him. "You shouldn't be talking to me. You got a lot you can lose now, and when status is on the line, you can trust no one. Your closest friends will turn on you. Just wait and see."

Ponyboy shook his head. That might've been true for the Socs and the Shepard gang, but it wasn't true for his gang. He was sure of it. They would stick together through thick and thin. After all, if losing so many people didn't tear them apart, nothing would. "It won't happen to us."

Randy derided, amused. "I wouldn't be so sure."

"Ponyboy!" Soda called up ahead.

Ponyboy went to leave, but turned back around. He remembered telling Cherry he'd help her and Randy if he could. "Boil water."

"What?"

"Boil water for your hair."

"You could get in a lot of trouble for telling me that."

Ponyboy shrugged. "You helped us out during the rumble. Now we're even." On the other hand, that was the first pleasant shower he had in a while. He wasn't looking forward to being demoted to plebeian status. He could already see the disapproving look from some of the Shepard gang. As an afterthought, he added, "Just don't tell anyone I told you." And he ran off to catch up with his brothers.

Soda put an arm around his shoulders, strutting proudly in a superior fashion. They all were. Heads raised, squared shoulders, broad grins. For the time being, they owned the school. "What did he want?"

"Nothing." Ponyboy lied.

"What the hell are we waiting for?" A plebeian Pony recognized from that night in the park complained. "Who gives a damn what those Greasy trash say?"

"Partition's word is law!" Soda snarled.

The Soc started to laugh. "You're about as thick as one!" No one could tell if Soda was more red from anger or embarrassment, but before he could even form a fist to throw, Tim Shepard beat him to it. In less than a second, the plebeian was on the ground, sporting a bloody nose. He picked him up by the collar and shoved his face against the wall. Others started to protest, telling Tim to let the guy go. Those who went to help him were held back. "I'll let Curtis deal with you." He dropped him to the ground.

Wiping the blood with the back of his hand, he stared up at the oldest Curtis. Darry towered over him, bulging his muscles and cracking his knuckles. If he wanted to, he could have shattered the guy's jaw. And it was tempting. "Back of the line." Darry told him. He didn't move. "Did I stutter?" The guy, a good three to four years younger, scrambled to his feet and to the back of the line in embarrassment.

He turned toward the rest of the plebeians. "Anybody else have anything they'd like to say?"

Some looked like they considered it, clenching their fists, ready to advance, when one of the high school teacher came over, sensing some trouble. "Is there a problem here?"

"No problem."

The teacher looked toward the plebeians. But with the roles reversed, the teacher would have to take the patrician's side. The plebeians all stared longingly at the showers, mouths slammed tight.

As Darry led them away, he got Soda in a headlock and ruffled his brother's hair, earning him a laugh. "It's patricians, little buddy."


End file.
